


Kinky Scotch Pancakes

by lemon_verbena



Series: Striketober 2020 [1]
Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: Banter, Gen, Post-Lethal White, Rated for Discussion of Cunnilingus, Striketober | Cormoran Strike Fictober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:21:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26749420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemon_verbena/pseuds/lemon_verbena
Summary: Robin scrunches up her nose. "Is that even possible?" she murmurs aloud, skimming the dirty emails between their client's spouse and his secretary-turned-mistress. Truly, men can be so cliche.For day 1 ofStriketober.
Relationships: Robin Ellacott & Cormoran Strike
Series: Striketober 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947751
Comments: 13
Kudos: 50
Collections: Striketober | Cormoran Strike Fictober 2020





	Kinky Scotch Pancakes

**Author's Note:**

> I'll hopefully be posting a smutty or smut-adjacent ficlet for each day in October, thanks to the brilliant Striketober prompt list from Robin LeStrange and Lula! Fingers crossed that I can manage it, on top of my other WIPs.
> 
> If you're participating, even with just one or two works, there's now a [collection](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Striketober2020/) you can add your works to and browse, please feel free to use it.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Robin scrunches up her nose. "Is that even possible?" she murmurs aloud, skimming the dirty emails between their client's spouse and his secretary-turned-mistress. Truly, men can be so cliche. 

"What?" Strike asks, looking up from his computer screen.

"He's written that he wants to lick her— oh, this is absurd, honestly.”

Strike cocks an eyebrow, interest piqued. “Absurd how?”

“Absurd in that it doesn’t seem likely nor possible, is what I— oh, let me just read this to you, if I can manage it without laughing.”

Strike sets aside the reports he’s meant to be reading, giving Robin his undivided attention. She clears her throat.

“I want to lick every delicious— oh god, I can’t.”

“Yes you can, now you have to,” Strike says, grinning as Robin’s face flushes a lovely shade of pink. “Go on, then.”

She clears her throat again, as though it will make the reading easier to get through. “I want to lick every delicious crevice of your scrumptious cunny— oh my god, I absolutely cannot—” 

Robin’s barely able to finish, Strike snorting with laughter as she goes on. “ _Scrumptious cunny,_ while you make your special chocolate-chip Scotch pancakes for me, with extra chocolate, so gooey and hot, while I slurp you down— I cannot believe this is real— _slurp you down_ like a rich thick milkshake. End quote. Lord almighty, I feel dirtier for having spoken that aloud.”

Cormoran’s laughing as Robin fans her face, hot with embarrassment.

“I just don’t see how that’s logistically possible,” Robin says, “unless he wants a head covered in batter.”

“Don’t forget the chocolate chips,” Strike says, wheezing slightly from the dual enjoyment of the ridiculous dirty-talk and Robin’s face as she read it to him. 

“Oh, you must include the chocolate chips,” Robin agrees, shaking her head. “Integral to the fantasy, they are.”

“I’ll make sure to put that in the report,” Strike says. “He strayed because he had pancake needs that weren’t being met at home.”

“ _Scotch_ pancake needs,” Robin says. 

“He’s got a kink, and no denying.” Strike says this seriously, with a nod.

Robin rolls her eyes at him, the both of them grinning.

“I’ll never make Scotch pancakes again, so help me,” Robin vows, turning her attention back to the dirty emails. “They’ve been ruined by this man’s strange desires.”

“Logistically improbable,” Strike agrees. “But one might argue that he’s simply in need of a filling meal.”

Robin throws a paperclip at him. “I hate you,” she says with no malice in her voice. “Go elsewhere so I don’t have to look at you while I read Kinky Pancake’s emails.”

“Is that his nickname now?” Strike asks, delighted. “That’s much better than the last one.”

“Yeah,” Robin says, “we can’t let all of them be Mad Hatter and Mrs Wobbly.”

“Oi, I named Mrs Wobbly, and she deserved it.”

“Sure she did,” Robin agrees, “considering that fit she threw, but you have to admit, Kinky Pancakes is better by far.”

“Granted,” Strike allows. “And _you_ can tell Barclay where the name’s from.”

Strike pretends not to see Robin tossing him a two-fingered salute from her desk, but smiles to himself all the same.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
